Leaves of trust
by thosepreciouswalls
Summary: It's pure coincidence that brings Dean Winchester and the Leverage team together. It's Hardison's similarity to Jake Talley that makes them all unable to simply walk away.
1. Prologue

AN: Here I am, publishing again. While working with Breathe I realized the value of having everything done beforehand to prevent writers block and bad conscience. So now, as I publish this prologue, I already have the other four chapters of this story finished. Therefore I can guarantee regular updates of this story, one part every day of Easter is the plan (as long as the internet is willing to cooperate).

Apart from the prologue this story will be exclusively from Eliot's point of view. It will focus on **Eliot **and** Dean** bonding and as such I had to take Sam and Cas out of the picture, just so you know they won't appear in this story.

It's set in October -13, meaning after season 5 for Leverage and after an** AU** season eight ending of Supernatural. Exactly what makes it AU will be explained in the story.

.oOo.

_Eliot is wearing his ear bud. Of course he is, he hasn't taken it out more than a few seconds at a time in the last ten months. Not since Nate and Sophie left. It's almost only transmitting when he's active on a case, but it's always receiving, guaranteeing that Parker and Hardison can reach him at a moment's notice. Keep them safe; that was his promise, and he'll make sure to keep it._

_If Eliot feels a little embarrassed when the thing comes alive in the changing room at his gym he studiously ignores it. Just as he ignores the strange looks he gets from the other guy in there when he starts a dialogue with an invisible friend. As it turns out Parker has gotten herself in trouble, just not the dangerous kind. Parker has managed to break her car. _

_It's not that Eliot is worried per se - Parker can take care of herself, using her military grade taser – but he knows something about what kind of people crawls the earth. As such he's desperate to not have anyone with a connection to him left a sitting duck. None of his adversaries might have the balls enough to take him on, but several of them are low enough to go for his friends._

.oOo.

Neither of Alec's three cars has a towing hook, something that Parker finds utterly stupid. She only has one car herself (because she might like cars but she _loves_ cash) and off course it has a towing hook. What if one needs to build a quick anchor point for rappelling down a cliff or something? Fat load of help it is giving her now though, when it is her car that needs towing.

At least it's a beautiful day, and apparently the others have rubbed off on her since she can't remember thinking about weather in such a way a few years ago. Orange leaves cover the sides of the road and the sun make them glister after the latest rain. It is a bit on the chilly side but the engine block's still warm as she leans against the popped hood.

Both of the boys are coming to save their damsel in distress. Eliot because he has the pickup to tow her back into town and Alec because Eliot had been at the gym without said pickup. Apparently leaving her alone on an empty stretch of road for forty minutes isn't the way her computer geek treats the ladies. Not that he will be around until after the twenty minute mark anyway. Parker has a very hard time deciding whether it's cute or annoying to have someone care so much for her.

Ten minutes later Parker is bored and cold and definitely leaning towards cute, and awesome, and a multitude of other grateful things. Thank God Alec will soon be around with a warm car to wait in.

Only a single car has passed her by on the small road, not even slowing down at the sight of her, when a second car rolls into sight. It's a black Impala, slightly dusty but in mint condition. Could probably be fenced for over 20 k. Easy money considering how little electronics were built into cars that old.

As the approaching car slows down Parker discreetly resets her ear bud to transmitting. "Guys, someone's stopping." She tries to ensure her lip movements go unseen. Before any of the others have time to answer Parker turns her attention to the newcomer.

"Need some help?" The man gestures at the engine. "A pretty girl like yourself shouldn't be stranded out here all alone, who knows what might happen?"

He says it with a grin and Parker thinks he's going for flirty but she's seen too many of those smiles before. It looks more like a shark, a show of teeth that never reaches the eyes. She has always wondered how anyone can fall for smiles like that. Who is that innocent? For the thief the expression has meant pain more than once, and she hopes that this isn't one of those times.

Parker regains her focus and answers the question. "I don't know. It just started smoking and now it won't start again. My boyfriend will be here any minute though." Good work, she mentally tells herself. A clear warning that she won't be alone for long. Hopefully that will keep him from doing anything bad.

"Want me to take a look at it? Might not be able to fix it out here but it could be worth a shot." He stops at a decent distance and Parker is grateful to be out of reach. The green eyes that are watching her takes on a contemplating gaze and she gets a feeling he is reading her in much the same ways as she is reading him.

"Look," he says, holding out his arms with his palms visible. "I'm not here to hurt you. I just don't like the thought of leaving you here stranded and alone, seen too much shit happen for that. If you want I'll just go back and sit in my car until your boyfriend gets here."

The shark look is gone, and Parker feels stupid for being so damn suspicious all the time. Her brain warns her that this might still be a trap, but Sophie used to tell her she has to stop assuming everybody wants to hurt her. Gripping the taser in her pocket she decides to go for it.

"It's okay." She concedes, but vows to herself to keep out of reach at all times. "You know anything about cars?"

"A little." The man says and lets out a small chuckle that seems real enough. "My dad was a mechanic, he taught me how to keep this baby running." he gestures to his car. "I'm Dean."

"Parker." She doesn't offer her hand but moves out of the way instead, granting him access to the car.

Dean is bent over the engine, poking at parts that Parker has no idea what they're for when she hears Alec's voice in her ear. Maybe he's been talking the whole time, she's gotten pretty good at ignoring the babble from the ear piece.

"Hey girl, you good? Who is this guy? He's a threat? What's…" It's too many questions to even begin answering, especially as she doesn't want Dean to know she's communicating with someone.

"Dammit Hardison!" Eliot growls to her rescue. "How is she supposed to answer all that, huh? Parker: Cough once if you're okay, twice if you're not."

Parker takes the time for a small upward twist of her lips before she coughs once. They might be a strange family, but a family none the less, and more than she ever thought she would get.

"Ok, good." Eliot's still in command, as he should be in any potentially threatening situation. "Hardison: How far out are you?"

"Five minutes, tops. Faster if I floor it."

"Ok, no need to rush unless Parker coughs twice. I'll be there in a little over ten minutes." Eliot's time estimation suggests that he is definitely rushing. Not that Parker can say anything about it without alerting Dean to her ear piece.

"Parker?" Dean's obviously been trying for her attention from the engine.

"Hm?" She answers, eyebrows raised. After all her mentor once taught her that saying nothing is better than saying the wrong thing.

"Your water pump broke. The engine got overheated and I guess you didn't notice until it started smoking?" Apparently Parker's blush is all the answer he needs. "Anyway; the pump needs fixing, you should switch the head gasket, a few of the pistons is probably cracked and it's hard to tell how much damage the thinning of the oil has caused without more time."

"Eh?" Parker tried to wrap her head around what he's telling her. "Is that mechanic speech for 'scrap it and buy a new one'?" Dean actually breaks into a real smile at her confusion. Small, but real.

"Depends, it's fixable but a lot of work. You could also get a whole new engine to replace this one, it might be cheaper."

"Could you do it for me?" Parker asks on a whim. She doesn't like to hire unknowns and although she just met Dean he's sort of growing on her. She could probably trust him with her car. "I'd pay you of course."

"Nah, sorry, I'm just passing through. You'd have to find someone local who'll stick around for the time it takes." Dean looks at the car and something tells Parker he would like to fix it, that repairing cars is what he'd do if he had a choice. She wonders what's keeping him away from it.

"Scrap it is then." Parker states, it's not like she can't afford a new car.

The rumble of an engine reaches the pair and they look towards the bend of the road. "Guess your boyfriend's here." Dean points out, quite unnecessarily. The black car's already around the bend and Parker can tell straight away it's Alec's.

"Yep, that's him. Thanks for the help." Hardison's pulling over to the side and the road starts feeling crowded with so many cars parked on such a short stretch.

"You're welcome," Dean replies. "Not that I could do anyth…" His voice falls quiet, and for a millisecond he simply stares at Hardison who's now walking towards them. The next moment Dean has whipped out a freaking _gun_ and is pointing it at the dark skinned man.

The universe comes to an abrupt halt. Parker's pretty sure even her heart has gone still. This is not supposed to happen. Hardison can't leave like this. Nate and Sophie are already mostly gone and she can't bear loosing anyone else right now, especially not Alec. This is exactly why she is always suspicious of new people.

Parker, the girl who didn't do commitment, who always worked alone and never had to fear losing anyone. Well, she's afraid now. Terrified. It's not that they haven't been in life or death situations together before, but it's always been on the job. Never like this, unprovoked and without being prepared for the risks.

Everything suddenly starts moving again, and Parker can hear Alec's startled exclamation at the sudden threat. Getting her brain back in order Parker coughs, twice, and hopes that Eliot is listening. "Gun." She grinds out, voice close to a whisper but Dean seems focused on nothing but Alec.

"Parker, did you say _gun_?" Eliot stresses and Parker makes an agreeing noise. "Dammit! I'm coming as fast as I can, try to stall." In the background Parker can hear Eliot's engine revving. She hopes he doesn't run into the police. "And Parker: Don't do anything stupid, if you zap him the muscle spasms will probably make the gun go off. _Just stall_."

"Mhm." Parker agrees before she turns her attention fully back on the chaos around her.

"How did you get back up? I watched you die, we burned your body. Hell and heaven are locked down. _So how?_" Dean's voice is hard as diamonds, all sharp edges and smooth surfaces. There's a hatred there that Parker can't imagine Hardison being able to bring out of a man.

"Get back from where?" Alec's voice shakes ever so slightly. It's no problem for Parker to see he's scared and confused, and she wonders if Dean doesn't see it too.

"Stop pretending Talley, you don't think I recognize you? Just stop this stupid charade."

"Honestly dude, I have no idea what you're talking about. I'm Alec Hardison. Whoever you think I am you're wrong!" Dean huffs, clearly not believing him.

"No, I'm not. I'll make you talk Jake, one way or another. So why not spare yourself the pain and tell me now? How, did, you, get, out?"

This is obviously personal between Dean and whoever this Jake Talley is. Hoping it won't prove fatal (literally) Parker decides to take a chance. _Stall_, Eliot had said, and so she will.

Dean looks surprised for a second as she steps between him and his mark. Then the murderous look is back, now directed at her. "Move!" He barks. "This has nothing to do with you, and I don't want to hurt you so step away!"

"No." Parker says, much calmer than she really feels.

"I'll shoot you if I have to." Dean is still angry but Parker can tell he wants nobody's blood on his hands except Hardison's. "And if you try anything I'll kill her." The last part is directed at Alec and Parker can practically feel his nod against her neck.

"He's not who you think he is." She says, trying to placate, to slow the situation down enough for Eliot to get there. Eliot will save them, he always does. "He's Alec Hardison, just like he said. I know him, he's a good guy."

"How long have you known him?" Dean's voice is still hard and unrelenting, but things are slowing down, Eliot will be there.

"Uhm, five years? Five and a half maybe?" It's really five years, six weeks, and two days, Parker's keeping count, but she's supposed to stall so that's what she does.

"Yeah, so for all you know he could very well have been Jake Talley in May 2007. Now move!" Dean makes a shooing motion with the weapon but Parker stubbornly remains put. If he was going to shoot her he probably would have already.

"I won't." The refusal sends a chill down her spine. What if she doesn't get away with it? "What's it to you anyway? Hardison couldn't have done anything to warrant you waving a gun at him, I know him." Keeping herself calm is getting progressively harder Parker notices.

"He killed my brother. Stabbed him in the back really." The anger has returned with new force, but there's something else mixed in now as well. Desperation maybe, or grief. It's hard to tell.

Hardison makes a strangled noise behind Parker's back. Clearly biting back a protest to keep from getting in the spotlight again.

"Hardison would never kill anyone. Unless in his computer games but that don't count, he would never kill a living human." Playing for time again Parker prolongs her defense.

"Keep going Parker, I'm almost there. You're doing it just right." Eliot's confirmation feels good. She can hear him panting and she guesses he's running the last bit so he won't be heard. "Whatever you two do, don't look at me. I will come at him from behind Parker's car, when I tackle him you throw yourself to your left. Go for the ditch and then behind the cars. I don't want any stray bullet to hit you." Hardison makes an agreeing sound that will have to stand for the two of them.

Dean's said something, Parker suddenly realizes, and she missed it. Now what? She's supposed to stall and that means keep him talking and how is she supposed to do that when she doesn't _listen_? Mentally berating herself Parker once again focuses on her inner Sophie. The English woman may no longer be in her ear but is always available in her mind.

'Change the subject.' Sophie tells her. 'Make it about you and you control the conversation. Be dramatic, feel, express your desperation…' Even in Parker's head the grifter has a way of going overboard. At least it's easier to cut her off there than in real life.

"Dean, please…" Parker is begging now, and if she's honest it's far more real than anyone will ever find out. "Please put the gun down. We'll figure this out, just… I know you think Alec's this Jake or whoever but he's not. Let us prove it to you. I'll do anything, just please…" Rambling she discovers is actually a great way of stalling.

The look in the green eyes is almost apologetic as Dean speaks. "I'm sorry Parker, but I just can't trust y…" He breaks off suddenly, quickly turning around to meet the oncoming freight train that is Eliot Spencer. Even Parker who knows the hitter is coming is slower to react. Then she throws herself to her left, mindlessly following Eliot's instructions even as she hears the gun go off. She prays to God that bullet didn't hit anyone.

.oOo.

AN: There it is; the prologue. Please let me know what you think.


	2. Chapter 1

AN: I'm sorry this chapter is late; due to ' Error Type 2' I was unable to post this last night. At least I got it online now, and I plan to update on schedule this evening (GMT). To make it even worse this chapter is a bit on the short side, but at least you only have to wait five or six hours for the next one.

.oOo.

Feeling surprised is never good in a fight. If someone is able to surprise you you have probably underestimated them, and that's dangerous. Never underestimate, always expect everything, Eliot Spencer has lived by this for years. It is a lesson he learnt early in his career, when he'd found himself held at gunpoint by a seven year old girl in pigtails. After that he never again considered anyone dangerless.

Due to this philosophy he's able to take it in stride when Dean notices his presence far earlier than planned, but it is _almost_ creepy. Eliot knows he can run silently when needed, and he should have been well out of his opponent's field of vision. It's almost as if the simple disturbance of air tells Dean something's happening.

Luckily Eliot is no more than six feet away when Dean notices him. Although another one of his rules is to never rely on luck he takes it where he can get it. Eliot slams into Dean the same moment that the gun is fired, managing to avoid the bullet by a hair's breath.

They both tumble to the ground from the impact, but Eliot is better prepared and comes out of the tangle with the gun in his hand. He quickly dismantles it and throws the offending piece of metal away from them. Hopefully Dean's not carrying a backup.

The second it took him to get rid of the gun is nearly Eliot's downfall. Dean's rolled gracefully to his feet and managed to produce a knife. Just as Eliot's hands are finally free of the firearm he feels the chill of the metal against his throat.

"Who are you?" Dean asks hoarsely. The scuffle has only been going on for a few seconds but Eliot's no fool. This guy knows how to fight. He's almost impossibly fast and has apparently trained for a long time. One aspect he seems to have overlooked though is pressure points, rookie mistake.

Eliot let his left hand shoot out with all the speed and precision he can muster. Luckily (and that word has come up far too often in this fight) he's right that Dean's not protecting the nerve centre he has at his elbow. The arm retracts and Eliot steps in to use the turn of events.

At one point in the skirmish that follows Eliot's pretty sure he can feel a rib or two breaking under his fist. It's not a particularly strong or well-placed hit but maybe they were cracked to begin with. Something he definitely feels is when the jagged edge of Dean's knife slices into his left arm.

Not long after that Eliot liberates Dean of the knife and buries it in the man's right bicep. It buys him the time to strike out towards one of the more vulnerable spots on Dean's skull. The man's unconscious body slumps to the ground.

"Eliot, you ok?" The voice floats through his ear piece and he glances over towards the cars to see his friends peeking out.

"I'm good. Dean's out. We need to get him of the road before someone drives past and sees him." The practical things always come first for Eliot, he can think about his injuries later. "Hardison, get over here and help me carry him behind the cars. Parker, fetch me the first aid kit from your car."

The orders are followed and soon enough they have Dean stashed out of sight. Eliot has wrapped up the two knife wounds, retrieved the weapon parts, and by now he just wants to call it a day. Unfortunately that's not possible yet. He rejoins his team next to Dean's unconscious form.

"What now?" It's Parker who asks, but he knows it's for the both of them. It's usually him who handles messes like this.

"We told him our real names." Hardison helpfully supplies. "We can't let him go or he'll probably come after me, but we can't just kill him either, can we?" Even the implication of the later solution makes Eliot nauseous. No, he definitely _will not_ kill this man. Not now, not in cold blood. He has sworn to himself he'll never do that again, that he is different now.

"Whoa man, not like that. I didn't mean it like that."Apparently some of his inner turmoil has shown on the surface clear enough for Hardison to notice. The two of them has gotten uncomfortably good at reading him lately.

"Dammit, why did you have to tell him your names? We'll have to get rid of everything that can be used to trace us. We've started over before, we just do so again."

"I don't want to leave Portland." Parker's voice is decidedly miserable.

The fact is none of them want to start over again. They've begun to root themselves in the town. It's the first time in his grown up life that Eliot feels he belong somewhere. Maybe it's not the city itself as much as it is the Brewpub with its kitchen and all the work he put into making a decent menu for the place. Maybe it's their office that's also basically their living room, complete with movie nights and beer in front of the tv. Or maybe it's the house he lives in, one he has finally found worth really moving in to. No, he don't want to leave Portland either.

"Maybe…" Parker begins, and there's hope in her voice again. "Maybe we could make him see that Hardison is just himself? Then we could stay, couldn't we?"

Even Hardison looks hopeful at that prospect and Eliot can't find it in him to deny them that hope. He is really growing far too soft. Yet there is nothing to lose by trying, they can just leave later if it doesn't work. Which Eliot is convinced it won't.

Principle alone dictates that Eliot looks displeased for a second before grinding out an acceptance. It might be a pointless, stupid idea but the smile it brings to Parker's face makes it worth trying. Because somewhere along the way his role with the team has stopped being about simply keeping them safe. He wants them to be happy.

Evaluating the situation Eliot makes a few fast decisions for how to proceed. They need a safe place, preferably with an attached garage. The cars need to get off the road as quickly as possible and some information about who they're dealing with wouldn't hurt. To top it all off Eliot has a sinking suspicion that Dean won't stay out for long. In less than a minute he has the full plan mapped out in his head.

"This is how we do it: You guys take Alec's and my car back to the brewpub. Leave Alec's car there and come back to tow Parker's to the same place. In the meantime I'll take Dean and his car back to my place, where we can enter through the garage. Parker, I'll need your taser in case he wakes up." Two heads nod their consent and Eliot continues.

"When you are done just take the truck to my house, park it in the driveway and come in. You look suspicious in any way and I swear I'll kill you." After all they are kidnappers now, they can't afford attention. "Oh, and Hardison; while Parker drives back here you find out who we're dealing with."

Alec looks a bit green at the prospect of being on the computer while riding with Parker, but Eliot's orders are followed without discussion.

AN: Sorry about the abrupt ending, but I had to cut somewhere :)


	3. Chapter 2

Under other circumstances Eliot would have found the Impala a joy to drive. Yet having the car's owner unconscious and tied in the passenger seat somewhat dampens the experience. Not to mention the mess it will cause if the police shows up and pulls him over. It's not that he couldn't get away, but he never enjoyed beating up honest workers.

It's a good thing Dean hasn't woken up yet. Getting him in the car and tying his arms to the seatbelt hadn't been easy while he was unconscious, but at least he hadn't fought back. Locking his hostage arms behind his back would have been preferable for security, but there are broken ribs involved. A punctured lung isn't something Eliot can fix, and hospital staff is always so meddlesome.

They are ten minutes away from Eliot's house and the field dressing of his arm has bled through when Dean groans. He tries to shift only to find out he's restrained and wary eyes snap open. Eliot is just about to warn him of misbehaving when he's interrupted.

"Seriously… First you put a hole in my jacket, then you bloody go and _drive my car_. Not okay, no one drives my car. If you put a single scratch on her you will pay, I swear." The man seems unusually calm given his situation, cocky even.

"Yeah, go ahead and try." Eliot waves the taser threateningly. "I obviously can beat you without it, but any attempts while I'm driving and I'll electrocute you." Dean actually huffs at that.

"As if I would do anything that might make you damage my baby." He does however eye the taser with slight apprehension so Eliot figures it will be a good enough defuser. "So, who are you? I'm guessing you're with Talley and the girl – Parker. Is that her first or last name by the way?"

For a second Eliot wonders if it's wise to respond, but what does it matter? If they don't succeed with this scheme they'll have to disappear anyway. "Eliot." He grinds out, not even acknowledging the second question. It's not as if he knows the answer anyway.

"Nice to meet you Eliot. I'm Dean, but I'm sure you've heard of me." A smile is fired off that's big enough that Eliot's peripheral vision is able to catch it. "Where are the rest by the way? And where are we going?"

The mock normalcy is beginning to piss Eliot off. This is a bad idea, he should never have gone along with it. "Shut. Up." He growls, and Dean eyes him – or maybe the taser – apprehensively.

"Whatever dude." Dean concedes. "Don't get your knickers in a twist."

Eliot sighs, on the inside only of course, and grits his teeth. This is going to be a long day.

Logically Elliot knows it might not be wise to be his normal, abrasive, self at this time. They are supposed to get Dean to trust them, to change his mind. Yet Eliot can't manage to play any games right now. He tells himself that risking being caught as insincere would be worse than being a little irritated.

As he turns the car onto his street Hardison informs him that they are leaving the BrewPub. "I'll start researching." He says. "But if I get car sick and throw up in here I'm holding you accountable."

A growl escapes the hitter's throat, and he can feel Dean looking at him. To hell with it, he will find out about the earpieces sooner or later.

"You do that and I break your arm." Hardison actually laughs at him. Maybe Eliot needs to start making real of his threats to make them effective again.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever man. I'll let you know if I find anything, but the facial recognition will take a while on this connection."

As Eliot waits for the garage door to open he can hear Parker asking why Hardison would get carsick. If he had been alone he might have allowed himself a smile listening to the hacker trying to get out of his newly dug grave without criticizing his girlfriend's driving skills.

Using his phone app to close the door behind them Eliot turns off the ignition. He can feel Dean staring openly at him.

"What?" Eliot finally asks.

"Honestly dude." Dean says, and Eliot's rapidly becoming tired of being called that. "You have ear buds for communication and open doors with your phone? Who the fuck are you guys?"

"Usually; the good ones." Dean raises an eyebrow at the answer and Eliot can see why. It would be hard to see ones captors as the good guys. Especially if you're convinced one of them murdered your brother.

"I'm going to cut you loose from the seatbelt. You should keep in mind that you are unarmed with a pair of broken ribs and I've got these." Eliot holds up Dean's knife and the taser to make his point.

"As you wish captain. What'd you do with my gun? I like that gun, it has sentimental value."

A swift but careful cut sever the rope that holds Deans tied hands to the seatbelt. Eliot unbuckles the belt for his passenger and steps out of the vehicle before answering.

"It's around. Behave and I might let you have it back when we let you go." In fact the gun is dismantled on the backseat floor, but Dean doesn't need to know that.

"Already speaking of my release? Someone should teach you how to abduct someone properly. You generally let them stew for a bit, then get whatever it is you want from them. If the victim's alive after that you might _consider_ releasing them. Harder to break a man that has hope and all that."

Their eyes meet over the roof of the car. The God Eliot can't manage to believe in sure knows he already have experience of both sides of the scenario Dean's painted, and something tells him Dean has as well.

"If I was interested in breaking you I would have totaled your car." Eliot's admittance brings a small grin to Dean's face.

"Damn man, you do know your stuff after all."

'If only you knew.' The words pass uninvited through Eliot's brain, but at least he doesn't say them out loud. Instead he shrugs uncommitingly and moves over to disable the alarm and unlock the house.

The air that meets Eliot as the door swings open smells of home. It's a calming blanket that wraps around him and he once again wishes he won't have to leave Portland. He motions Dean inside and they step through to the kitchen.

If Eliot has a choice he never has a fight in a kitchen. It's for two reasons. Firstly, kitchens are for cooking, and as far as possible Eliot wants to separate cooking from fighting. Secondly, kitchens are brimming with potential weapons; it's almost as bad as a workshop. Between sharp knives and heavy pans you could never know what your opponent might come up with next. As such he makes sure that Dean takes a seat at the side of the table that's basically in the living room. That way his position by the counter is in between his involuntary guest and the potential weapons.

"Uh, Eliot?" Hardison's voice floats through the earpiece. Eliot can't be bothered to answer properly so he simply grunts an affirmative. "The facial recognition came through, and, eh…"

"What? Spit it out already." The spoken words make Dean shift his attention to Eliot, clearly wondering what they're talking about.

"Okay… It seems like we've caught us Dean Winchester. I can't believe I didn't recognize him… I mean, I know you don't watch tv but you must have heard about him? He's accused of everything from card fraud and grave desecration to bank robbery and murder. He's most famous though for going on a murder spree with his brother two years ago. They even made sure they were caught on tape."

That is actually something Eliot remembers. Looking over at Dean sitting casually in his kitchen even Eliot has a hard time connecting the dots. He knows seemingly ordinary people can be capable of the most horrendous things, but still… Eliot likes to believe he can look a man in the eye and see what he's capable of, but he can't see a spree killer in Dean. A killer, yes, much in the same way that he sees in the mirror every morning, but not a psychotic mass murderer. Then something else strikes him.

"Weren't they killed? I thought the police shot them?" He can see Dean's face change as he understands the subject of the discussion. He almost looks troubled.

"Yeah, that's the thing, they did." Hardison supplies. "I also have a report about him being shot dead in St. Louis '05, dying in a helicopter crash in '08, I think you get the pattern."

"It's strange," Parker broke in. "If he did all that, why did he hesitate to kill me?"

"The million dollar question, isn't it?" Hardison muses. "I also looked up Jake Talley. Turns out he's real, and let me tell you: He must be my evil twin or something. I mean if I didn't know it wasn't me in those photos… It's bloody creepy, that's what it is."

"His eye color is a few nuances off though." Parker seems calmer about the unknown double than Hardison. There's never any telling what might or might not ruffle that girl. "Besides it said he's five months older than you and two inches taller, so you can't be twins."

"I'm sending Talley's picture to your phone right now." Hardison's words are followed by a ping from said device. "Anyway, we are by the car now and will be on our way back to town soon. I'll show you the rest of it when we're there."

"Whatever," Eliot agrees. Picking up his phone he's actually thrown by the picture in front of him. Sure they said Talley looked a lot like Hardison, but this is simply ridiculous. If not for the military clothing and stance Eliot would have taken him for his teammate straight away.

Dean's studying Eliot intently, apparently waiting for some kind of reaction. Eliot shows him the picture. "I see how you could mistake Hardison for this guy," he says.

"That's it?" Dean's voice is full of disbelief. "I doubt that was the main subject of your conversation."

"It wasn't." Eliot agrees, but he doesn't elaborate. It can wait until he's gotten more information.

If Eliot ignores the spree killings, which he can't make himself believe Dean committed, the other's rap sheet isn't much worse than his own. Maybe except the grave desecration, that's a bit alarming.

.oOo.

It's something about sitting across from a man, stitching up wounds that you have caused each other. Eliot has been sent to infirmary after fights within his platoon but something with the bustling efficiency and disapproving looks from the medical staff makes that a whole other thing. Here, now, sitting across from Dean it feels almost intimate.

When it comes to injuries Eliot is not far from a wounded dog, sneaking away and tending to his injuries in private. Not even Parker is allowed around him if he can help it, and he usually can. It's just something about it all that makes him want to be alone. The eyes he has met during those sessions are always filled with things he hates. Pity, fear, discomfort, nausea; normal humans just don't react well to these sorts of things. The few people he knows that are like him never stays long enough for the patch-up. Sitting with Dean now, pushing the bent needle through the even edges of his own anesthetized skin, there is nothing but quiet acceptance and the sense they've both done this enough times for it to be commonplace.

Dean had taken the suture kit offered to him grudgingly. He's obviously wise enough to realize his arm needs stitching, and while he too had probably rather done it in solitude he seems to accept the situation. The anesthesia had been vehemently turned down though, and Eliot can relate. He would never allow a stranger to inject him with an unknown substance either. Too many bad memories.

Their mamas should be proud of their sewing skills Eliot concludes, as two neat rows of stitches forms on their arms. Not that he'd ever let his mama see anything like this. Not that she's alive anyway.

They are done almost simultaneously, taping compresses over the stitches to keep infections away, when they hear a car pull up on the driveway. In perfect synch the two men rise and hastily clean away the mess of medical supplies and bloody bandages from the table. For Eliot it's always been a drive to keep the innocent that way (and no matter what they may think Hardison and Parker are just that), and apparently it's a thing that Dean shares.

When the thief and the hacker noisily enter the house Dean and Eliot are back to their respective sides of the table. Dean's arms remain untied. It might be a reckless and stupid move but Eliot can't bring himself to retie them. After all he's aware of how painful broken ribs are, even without restrains. If Hardison just keeps out of arm's reach it should be fine, at least that is what Eliot tells himself.


	4. Chapter 3

Eliot plucks the beer out of the fridge and absentmindedly tosses it over his right shoulder towards Dean. Putting a potential weapon in the stranger's hands might not be the best idea, but Eliot desperately wants one himself. As such, not offering the same to the others would be impolite, and he's raised better than that.

The flask is already in the air when Eliot remembers the concussion and the broken ribs, but Dean catches it with ease none the less. Drinking alcohol with a head injury might be frowned on by the doctors but Eliot figures Dean is old enough to decide for himself whether to drink it or not. Knowing that his teammates' reactions to flying objects are to duck rather than to catch he slides theirs over the table.

Just a few minutes earlier the atmosphere had been relaxed, close to friendly for being a hostage situation, but that had changed the second Alec entered the house. Now the air feels sticky and Eliot wonders if they shouldn't just have ran. Chances are that this will escalate into something that destroys his calm in this house, and he will have to move anyway.

Both Hardison and Dean seem determined not to talk first, and Eliot won't be taking the lead on this. Finally it's Parker who breaks the silence.

"Didn't Eliot show you the picture?" Just like her, no sugar coating. She looks expectantly at Dean, head cocked to the side. It would seem innocent if not for the taser being back in her possession and resting in her hand.

"Proves nothing." Dean huffs. "Faking that is child's play. Why so eager to convince me anyway? Could have just left me knocked out on the road and disappeared into the twilight."

"And hope you wouldn't have come after me? Brilliant plan." Apparently the care-free attitude is provoking Hardison as well.

"Nah, you're right. I would have hunted you, probably still will unless you kill me." The last part is obviously directed at Eliot. He gets the feeling Dean honestly wouldn't mind that much, something he can relate to even if he's not there anymore himself.

It's a bit unsettling that Dean seems so able to read him, to recognize their resemblance the way Eliot does. Because Dean wouldn't have said it like that if he didn't know Eliot has killed before, and that he's trying not to any more.

"We could also hand you over to the police." Hardison raises his eyebrows and turn the computer screen around. As it passes Eliot he catch a glimpse of Dean's FBI file. "They seem very eager to meet you. Probably won't let you leave for quite a while."

Dean actually laughs at this, as much as anyone with broken ribs can. "That's just priceless. If you haven't turned me in yet I doubt you will. Not to mention how well detaining me has worked for them in the past."

"So what can we do?" Parker looks at Dean but it's clear he don't get the question. "To make you realize that Alec's not Jake." She clarifies.

"It doesn't really matter anymore Parker." Hardison forces her attention back to him.

"Why not?" Her innocence can still surprise Eliot.

"Why not?" Alec repeats the words in his dramatic manner. "That's why not!" He gestures at the computer. "He… he's…" For once even Hardison's speechless and Eliot finds Parker looking to him for an explanation. Someone beats him to it.

"What he's trying to say is he won't let me back out in the world even if I'm no danger to _him_." Dean's voice isn't loud but it carries clearly in the silence. "Haven't read that file in a couple of years but I'm guessing it hasn't become prettier."

"Did you really do all that?" Parker is unconvinced. "No one could do all that."

It's really just a split second that Dean looks over to meet Eliot's eyes. Yet they both know the meaning. Yes, someone _could_ do all that, there are people who has. None of them say it out loud though, and Parker can keep her happy little illusion.

"Not all of it, but enough. Most of it's taken out of context though." Parker looks stunned.

"The spree?" Elliot can't help but ask. The rest he can sort of believe but not that.

"No." Dean confirms. "We were framed on that one."

You would think that having been around Eliot for so many years his team wouldn't be shocked by this man's history. Yet apparently they are. It makes the hitter realize how vague he's been about his past. Off course his friends are aware that he has killed, they have just never guessed the extent of it. They still believe he's only done it with his own life in the balance, or to protect the innocent. He hopes they never find out how often it has been those innocents that have been his targets.

Eliot realizes the rap sheet is actually a topic he wants to stay clear of, if only for a little longer. It reminds him too much of his past. As such he brings the conversation back towards Hardison.

"We can figure that part out later. Now, is there anything we can do to convince you it wasn't Hardison who killed your brother?"

"Maybe, but you won't like it." Dean senses he's expected to continue so he does. "I'd have to do some tests first. If you pass we'll take it from there."

Somehow Dean manages to make Parker and Hardison wait in the kitchen as he and Eliot goes to retrieve something from the Impala. Eliot can't help the uneasiness that washes over him as they leave. What is it that Dean is so eager to conceal from the others? Hopefully he doesn't have a disjointed corpse or something sitting in his garage.

Dean directs him to the trunk and Eliot carefully makes sure that the man is out of reach from any potential weapons. It hits him that the car could be rigged somehow, but he don't back down. He's walked across minefields; he can open a simple trunk.

Meeting Dean's eyes just before he swings the lid open he is somewhat appeased, as far as he can tell there's no hidden agenda. Nothing blows up in Eliot's face and he stares down at the lonely duffel bag laying there. Before Eliot can ask he catches Dean motioning towards his ear. The gesture couldn't be clearer, he won't talk in front of the others. There's probably a hidden compartment then.

It's not often that Eliot does stupid things - security wise - but he concedes with Dean now and turns the transmission off. Apparently Dean decides to be trusting as well and believes in his action. Then again he might just think Eliot will only have himself to blame if his friends find whatever is hidden in there.

When the false bottom springs up Eliot can't help but let out a small whistle. It's just as well the others aren't around to see this, the array of weapons would definitely make them skittish. They should only know how many knives he had stashed all over the pub.

"Honestly?" Eliot asks, holding out a crucifix in one hand and a crossbow in his other. Dean simply shrugs.

"They have their uses." He doesn't elaborate and Eliot refrains from pressing.

"What do we need?" Eliot asks instead.

"Those two knives and the water." The water turns out to be a plastic gallon container with a rosary in the bottom. Again, Eliot chooses not to ask.

.oOo.

The shot of water that Dean slides across the table to Eliot is regarded with caution. Sure, the man's just had some himself but there's enough poisons that you can build up a tolerance for. Yet allowing for one of the others to go first is worse than taking the risk himself.

Going down the liquid is stale with a clear taste of plastic and dust.

"Water." Eliot confirms and watches as Hardison and Parker drain their glasses as well. The thief does a catlike move afterwards, as if she's scraping the taste off her tongue against her teeth.

"Great, what a party!" The drinking has slightly placated Dean's hostility, but the carefree demeanor is as fake as ever.

"So," Dean continues looking at Eliot. "I'm guessing passing a wanted murderer a knife is out of the question?"

The grin directed at Eliot is what Parker would call a shark smile, all teeth and no joy. He bets it works wonders on normal people. Here every one of them see straight through it. Actually, Eliot's pretty sure he used to look like that a few years ago. Back when he was smiling to keep his façade in front of his team. They're still not allowed much insight in his life before Leverage, but at least he's stopped pretending to be happy when he's not.

"Okay, whatever." The silence must have been answer enough as Dean lays his left arm on the table, palm down. "Since you guys obviously have trust issues I'll go first. Cut me. Both blades, enough to draw blood."

It would be so incredibly easy for Eliot to kill Dean right in this moment. He's sure the other man knows it too. It's just a matter of quickly flipping the arm over and opening his veins. Even without broken ribs it's an attack that's virtually impossible to stop when you're stretched across the table like Dean is now. The carelessness (because surly it can't be a show of trust) stuns Eliot for a second, then he gets on with it.

Unsheathing the knives Eliot discovers they are made from what looks like silver and iron respectively. It's a weird choice for a weapon, not very practical compared to stainless steel. Then again this is from a guy who owns a crossbow, so maybe it shouldn't come as a surprise.

When blood is trickling lazily down his arm from two parallel cuts Dean retracts his limb and pulls his jacket over the lacerations. He then nods at Eliot.

"Hell no, I'm drawing the line." Hardison sounds panicked. "No one is slicing me up, I'm leaving." He's beginning to rise and Eliot can feel the tension rolling off Dean when the hacker tries to avoid the blades. For the life of him Eliot can't figure out the point of this ritual, but he knows it looks bad with Hardison trying to escape it.

"Please." Parker's voice stops Hardison in his tracks and he turns to look at her. "It's just blood you know. If you want you can close your eyes and I can cut you and Eliot will patch you up before you know it. For me?"

"Damn girl." All the fight has left Hardison. "Don't tell me you're enjoying this." Parker gives him a sly smile that Eliot prefers not to analyze. Hardison groans in answer.

The incisions take next to no time to carry out, even if Eliot is careful to clean the blades in between each one. Hardison makes a worried noise and try to withdraw his arm as the first cold metal touch his arm but Parker's grip on his hand holds him in place. To her defense she is quick and precise as she draws the knife edges across his arm, creating two thin cuts where a few drops of crimson appear.

"Girl, we're gonna have a long hard talk about this when we get home." Hardison peers down on his arm just before Eliot slaps a band aid on it. "Happy now? Did I pass?" The question is directed at Dean.

"Sort of, and yes, all of you passed. Now I make a phone call and then I might consider that you're really not Talley." The man pulls out his phone and dials a number from memory.

No more than three signals can have gone through before Hardison have their ear buds receive what Dean's hearing. Dean looks suspiciously on the smattering keyboard but then simply heaves a sight and rises. He doesn't go far, just to the living room window where he stands with his back to them. For a second Eliot thinks about the four knives he has hidden in various places in the room with Dean. Then whoever is being called picks up the phone and Eliot's musings is interrupted.

"Dean bloody Winchester!" The voice belongs to a girl who is somewhere in between annoyed and elated.

"Hiya Charlie, look…" Whatever Dean means to say he's cut off.

"Why aren't you guys answering? I've been emailing stuff for a community on hunting to Sam for months and he's just ignoring me. I mean he was all for it when I met you guys. What's going on?"

"Charlie!" Dean's voice is rough as he cut's the rant off. "People are listening, probably tracing the call." He throws Hardison a dirty look over his shoulder. "I'm sorry if I'm outing you but I could use some help."

For a second the line is dead silent.

"Dean, where's Sam?" The girl, Charlie, suddenly sound worried. Eliot can see Dean's body stiffening at the question and he can guess the answer already.

"Gone, okay? Turns out the last trial included the 'ultimate sacrifice'. I found out too late." The mix of guilt and anger in his voice makes Eliot glad Dean's standing with his back towards them.

"Oh…" Charlie is searching for words. "But you'll get him back though, won't you? You and Cas?"

"Charlie, Sam managed his trials, as did Cas. Those gates are closed for a long, long time."

"Jesus… Dean, that's… When?"

"May. Sorry I haven't called until now." Eliot feels dirty, listening in on this. It's not meant for his ears. Too late to take it back now though.

The realization that it doesn't add up slams into Eliot, and he almost interrupts the call to ask. Because in his file Dean only have one sibling, Sam. So if Talley killed his brother, that should have been Sam. But Dean just said Sam died a few months ago. On the other hand Eliot biologically only had a sister, yet he had gained several brothers in the army. Unfortunately he lost them when his life turned down its darker path. Settling for that explanation he returns to the conversation.

"I get it." Charlie's forgiveness sounds earnest. "So why are you calling now? What mess have you gotten yourself into that needs my expertise?" The room takes a collective breath as the thickness of guilt and bad news begins to ease with the switch of subject.

"I ran into Jake Talley." Dean sounds indifferent but Charlie destroys that notion in a heartbeat.

"_The_ Jake Tally? As in the guy whose knife started the whole madness with you selling…" Unfortunately that's were Charlie remembers they are listening and cuts herself off. "But he was dead, Sam emptied a whole clip in him. I mean it left off with you at the car but you must have burnt his body? How could you run into Talley?"

"That's just creepy." Dean mutters. Somehow Eliot has the feeling that he isn't talking about the casual way the killing of that man is discussed. "How many times have you been reading that shit, memorizing stuff?" Obviously it's not the kill he's talking about.

"Eh…" Charlie squirms. "Only once? Scientific curiosity?"

"Right, and I'm standing in a field with unicorns. You're a crappy liar Charlie." Something close to a laugh escapes Dean before he gets them back on track. "But yes, of course we freaking burned him. What did you think?"

"I guess he could have gotten out before Sam shut the gates?" Charlie sounds doubting.

"Possible, but I don't know. Did some tests, with no reaction, so he might be a lookalike after all. I just need to be sure." To Eliot it almost sounds like they're talking in some kind of vague code. So much is left out.

"Um, no offence but did you take him? You said you run tests so you must have him. That will not end pretty if he's just a lookalike." It's weird, how the girl can take killing one man and burning his body in stride and then balk at the idea of kidnapping another.

"Don't fret, wouldn't wanna wrinkle your pretty face. They're the ones who kidnapped me." The sputtering that erupts on the other side of the line makes Dean let out a small laugh. He presses his left arm to his ribcage to keep them from being overly displaced.

"What? How? Didn't you say they were normal _people_? Can't you just break away?" Charlie does clearly not believe what she's told.

"Nice to know you still see me as invincible. They _do_ however have a dude who is pretty badass, actually gave me a few broken ribs and a concussion." Eliot can admit he's not used to people being so flippant about his fighting skills. The handful of hitters that can allow themselves that he can easily name.

"So what? You've gotten out of worse." Charlie is clearly teasing but Eliot can tell there a grain of truth in the statement.

"They have a taser." Dean dramatically whispers. "Given your disturbing interest in my life you should know what happened last time I was electrocuted."

Charlie laughs freely at that, agreeing that it might be wise to keep his ticker in working condition.

"Now," Dean turns serious again. "Apparently their game is to convince me that this Alec Hardison dude is not Talley. I need you to look into it. You can dig far deeper than me, and since they've got a back door into FBI I bet they're good at creating identities as well."

"I'll see what I can do. So Alec Hardison, what about the others?" Fingers are already flying across a keyboard in the background.

"A chick called Parker, dunno if it's first or last name, and a guy named Eliot, he's the one who knocked me out."

"Okay, I'll get back to you in a couple of hours?" Charlie already sounds distanced, her focus clearly not on the conversation any more.

"Sure, thanks Charlie."

"Whatever." The line goes down and Hardison disconnects it from their ear buds.

.oOo.

AN: I'm sorry I killed Sam, I've been debating since the beginning whether to tell you or not in my very first AN (in the prologue). Should I change it to include more about what makes it AU or should I let it remain as it is? Help is much appreciated! /ThosePreciousWalls


	5. Chapter 4

AN: I've gotten several questions regarding Castiel after yesterday's chapter. In this AU Cas managed his trials, and was never tricked regarding what they would lead to. As such heaven is locked down with Castiel and all the other angels inside.

Now to the last chapter:

.oOo.

While they wait for Charlie's call Eliot cooks. Chicken drumsticks in lemon and rosemary, rice cooked in bouillon with a touch of white wine, a simple salad with tomatoes and vinaigrette. It gives him something to focus his anxious energy on until the verdict of this stupid debacle.

Because Eliot can't see how this can ever end well. Best case scenario is that Dean stops being a threat to Hardison. Yet even then it's the matter of trusting things to remain that way, not to mention the little fact that Dean's been topping the FBI's most wanted list. Spree killer and grave robber sounds bad even in this crowd.

Parker and Hardison had fled the room as soon as the phone call ended. Having made sure to pick a room out of ear's reach from the living room they are now sifting through Dean's rather extensive FBI file. Eliot can hear them trying to piece all the contradicting facts together, but he's got his transmitter turned off to spare them the noise of the kitchen appliances.

It's closing in on half an hour after the phone call when Dean finally moves away from the window. When he steps into the kitchen Eliot is weary for a split second, but after all he's the one holding a knife.

"So what, the love birds sneak away to a bedroom somewhere and you cook for them in the meantime? You're whipped dude." Dean fires of a huge but obviously fake smile in Eliot's direction. It's an offer of an easy banter, a way to release some of the tension.

Eliot almost answers in kind. He wants to forget their current predicament just as much as Dean, but he finds he can't. There are too many questions to be answered first.

"In fact, they're in the next room going over your file. It's quite contradicting regarding your date of death you know." It's said harshly, and Eliot should really be more polite but he doesn't have the energy. Polite is what he does towards potential dates, elders and marks. Dean is none of these things.

"Amazing isn't it? I should have my own tv show; Dean Winchester – the man who refuses to stay dead." Dean draws an arc in the air to accentuate the title.

"Do you _want_ me to hit you again?" Eliot raises his eyebrows in question as he puts the salad bowl on the table.

"Whatever makes you happy. Just mind the teeth though, dental care is way overpriced."

The drumsticks are in the oven, the rice boiling and the dishes done. With nothing to occupy him for the moment Eliot leans against the counter, turning towards Dean. He's too fed up with the meaningless conversation to bother anymore. Instead he studies the other man, waiting for him to crack. It doesn't take long.

"What?" Dean's annoyed too now but Eliot remains impassive. "Dude, there's something wrong with you."

When Dean makes for the living room Eliot hears a noise from the hallway. He turns around to find Hardison and Parker standing there, looking at them with huge eyes.

"Did he just say…?" Parker confirms with Alec, who nods.

"Yeah." As if on cue the pair starts laughing. "Man, are you two peas in a pot or what?" Alec's directing his question at Eliot and he can't help the small twitch of his lips.

Dean's stopped in the middle of the living room and is watching them, confused. No one explains to him that he just stole Eliot's line. That the hitter has said exactly that to Hardison and Parker so many times that it's stopped being an insult and become something of an endearment.

"Shut up, sit down and eat." Eliot feels every inch the older brother, especially as only the last two demands are met. He checks the rice, put it on the table and bring out the chicken. It smells heavenly.

.oOo.

"Aren't you going to eat?" Parker's words are slurred around a mouthful of chicken but Dean's able to translate them.

"Nah, I'm good." There's hesitation in his voice, and Eliot wonders why. Any fear of poisoning should be calmed after the beer, but maybe Dean's just nauseous from the concussion.

"Eliot's an awesome chef, and lunch was a long time ago. Try some." Parker scoops up one of her drumsticks with buttery fingers and dumps it on Dean's plate.

The man sighs, and takes his seat in resignation. The descent onto the chair is slow, mindful of broken ribs, but done in ease all things considered. Maybe Dean has broken his ribs just as often as Eliot, after a few times the movement pattern for reducing the pain is well rehearsed. When Dean picks up the chicken Parker coups and fills his plate with more drumsticks, as well as rice, sauce and salad. Dean shoots her an annoyed glance but give in and start eating.

It's almost funny, after Dean's initial reluctance, the sheer amount of food the man's going through. As he's filling his plate for the third time Hardison's voice breaks the silence around the table.

"Someone could get the impression you haven't had a decent meal in weeks." Dean's hand wavers for a moment before continuing his path but whatever he's feeling is lost behind one of his huge grins.

"Well, in my line of work homemade food is a bit of a rarity. Again, I think you've missed the memo on how to treat hostages." The last part is directed at Eliot.

"Guess it depends on if you want to break someone or win him over, and I still haven't totaled your car." The reference to their earlier conversation seems lost on Eliot's teammates.

"Guess it does." Something about the statement tells Eliot that Dean's as unused to that scenario as he is. During all the previous times he's taken someone, or been taken himself, it's always been about pain and humiliation and breakage. No matter how he feels about it Eliot is good at that, and he can bet Dean is too. When it comes to this though, they both seem to be stumbling around in the dark.

ACDC blare through the room, and Eliot is relieved. This is not a topic he wants to delve further into right now, or ever. Hardison reaches for his ever present computer and Dean throws him a dirty look. When he answers he puts the phone on speaker.

"Hiya Charlie. Got anything for me?"

"Hello, and yes, obviously. I'm on speaker?" She doesn't sound surprised.

"Yeah, they'd be listening in anyhow." Another sour look is directed at Hardison.

"Okay. Well, being the wonderful queen I am I present to you a result of my relentless search."

Dean smiles at Charlie's antics. "Shoot."

"Alec Hardison seems legit. Very legit. Actually, I've got a friend who battled him in Starcraft at this tournament at the same time that Jake Talley was with Sam in Cold Oak. The geek community's not that big you know. Not at our level." Eliot wonders what level she's referring to. He has a sneaking suspicion that Dean is talking to his own, female, version of Hardison.

"You sure it was him?" There's still doubt in Dean's voice.

"As sure as anyone is ever gonna get." Hardison looks hopeful at her response.

"Okay." Dean's answer settles at least some of the turmoil in Eliot's stomach.

"I also took the liberty to find out who you're dealing with. Hardison's their hacker, a _really_ good one I can tell you. Parker's a thief, top of the line, accused of several museum heists. I couldn't find out if Parker's her first or last name though. However I did notice she's one good looking lady."

"Down girl." Dean sounds amused. "She's taken. You should see the looks Hardison is giving the phone." Eliot almost smiles at that, before realizing that his profile is up next.

"Eliot is Eliot Spencer. Hitter extraordinaire, retrieval specialist, former special ops and mercenary. I'm slightly surprised that you're still alive if you threatened his friend." When Charlie don't bring up anymore of his past Eliot realize he got away easy.

"He's not all they make him out to be." The cocky tone makes Eliot want to punch Dean again. He did knock the guy out after all.

"Maybe you just have a different frame of reference? Besides, he obviously took you down." Eliot silently thanks the girl. He also wonders what Dean's used to for him to be so casually cast aside.

"That's not fair." Dean's jokingly indignant. "I had just finished a job and had three cracked ribs."

"You keep telling yourself that. To get back to business these three along with a grifter and an insurance investigator has been running an operation called Leverage. As far as I can tell they step in to protect the little man from the big companies when the law doesn't. Not very popular in some circles which is why they've gone underground. Since I tracked your phone to Portland I guess they're based there now."

Dean's watching his three hosts with interest after the latest revelation.

"Where did the other two go?" It's not a question to Charlie as much as it is to them.

"They got married." Parker doesn't elaborate but Dean seems fine with that.

"So…" Charlie drags the word. "Will you let Dean go now that he knows Hardison's not Talley?" There is a hesitation in her voice that indicates she knows it's more complicated than that.

"It's not that easy anymore." Hardison says. "We pulled his FBI file, and, well…" Not inclined to outright call Dean a psychopath murderer Hardison trails off.

"Oh come on. Haven't you read it?" Charlie sounds annoyed.

"I think that's their problem you know." Dean tells his friend. "I've only got a glance at it a few years ago but I can imagine, I lived it after all."

"Yeah, but Dean: It wasn't like that. Almost none of it happened like that, definitely not the big stuff. I mean the thing's got more holes than a Swiss cheese."

"We've been noticing." Hardison must mean him and Parker because Eliot sure hasn't noticed. He has tuned most of their conversations about the file out, knowing that the feds aren't always the best judges of character. Or circumstances for that matter.

"In every single one of those cases the shit started before any of the Winchester's were in town, and it always ended right before they left. You do the math."

"Charlie." There's a warning in Dean's tone that Eliot can't interpret the reason for. Why is he warning his friend when she's defending him? What is he afraid she might say?

Hardison is scrolling through the file, confirming Charlie's finding.

"As far as I can see she's telling the truth." Hardison's voice is still doubtful.

"I am. Dean's not a cold-blooded murderer." Charlie speaks with conviction.

For a second Dean looks as if he might disagree with her, but out of necessity he decides not to voice it. Eliot knows the feeling; he wants to argue every time someone in his team says something like that about him. He doubts his teammates has seen Dean's struggle though, and he lets it slide. A favor, one cold-blooded murderer to another.

"I believe her." Parker declares before focusing at Hardison.

"Damn girl." Hardison looks unsettled. "Fine, whatever, I'm with Parker." Eliot wants to call him out on being a wus, but before he gets the chance he feels the attention shifting. They are all waiting for him to give the verdict of their mock court.

"Not like I'm in any position to judge." Because he really isn't, not when his file would look about the same as Dean's.

Promising to be in touch more often, Dean ends the call. Charlie seems to accept that he probably won't. The three knives are placed on the table, hilt towards Dean, and he pockets them. Not a word has to be said for Eliot to know the raised eyebrow is about the gun.

"Floor behind the passenger seat." Eliot offers and Dean gives off something close to a laugh.

"You're weird, you know that?" The question isn't asked with malice. "You could've just used it. It's not the palm print coded MI6 issue, although that would be awesome." Again, Dean doesn't sound like he would have minded much if Eliot had shot him. A slight death wish is obviously an occupational hazard for men like them.

"I don't like guns." It's all Eliot has ever offered on the subject, and it's not a habit he intends on breaking anytime soon. He is relieved when Dean drops the subject and stands. The man offers his hand to Hardison who rises to take it with a wary look.

"Sorry 'bout the misunderstanding." Dean's apology sends Hardison's eyebrows to his hairline.

"Misunde… Dude, you almost _killed_ me. That's not a 'misunderstanding', that's fucked up." How Hardison and his big mouth have managed to stay alive this long is a mystery to Eliot.

"Well, to you maybe. For me, this is just another day in the Wonderful World of Winchester." Dean gives Hardison a blinding smile and turn to Eliot. "Going to let me out of your garage?"

Eliot wants to tell him 'no' and instead offer Dean a room for tonight. Thanks to him the man has broken ribs and a concussion; he's not in any condition to drive. There's also always the risk of the head injury being worse than it looks, and it is recommended that someone keep track of the concussed for at least twenty four hours. Not that Eliot himself tends to allow people to monitor him in similar situations.

Instead of saying any of those things Eliot complies and activate the app to open the door. Dean tells them goodbye and drives off in the gray dusk. With his back to the others Eliot allows himself a second of worry. Hopefully he won't have to read in tomorrow's paper about Dean Winchester being found dead (again). He doesn't need another life on his conscience.

It's not until the Impala's disappeared behind a bend that Eliot realizes there are so many things they never cleared up. Like how Dean could find it more plausible to be talking to a dead man than a lookalike. What the ramblings of heaven and hell and getting back up had meant as the man was convinced he was speaking to Talley. Who the brother was that Talley had killed. Not to mention how he'd faked his death so many times. Those questions will probably never be answered now.

Herding his team back into the kitchen Eliot muses that he needs to drive them home soon. He just wants to go to bed, fall asleep and pretend this day never happened. Not that he thinks he stands a chance of forgetting Dean Winchester anytime soon.

.oOo.

AN: There it is, the last chapter. I already have one (or two) sequels planned for this. Hopefully the first one will be out soon, I just have to survive an exam first. Thank you for reading this, every review, follow and favorite means a lot to me. /ThosePreciousWalls


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